The Chekov Incident
by seeminglyinnocuous
Summary: The Scoobies all get together to celebrate an immense occasion. El Doctoro marritoe.


The TARDIS door bursted open.

"#YOLO, brethren mine!" quothed Riviere. "Wherefore art mine crew!?"

Slowly, a mess of black hair rose from the floor, carrying Amey behind it. The sheer amount of white makeup caked upon her face gave the impression to all those witnessing her ascent of an expressionless ghost, which haunted the TARDIS like a phantom in the machine. This is rather the effect she was hoping to have.

"Who goes there!?" Roranicus chirped, when it became clear that Amey was going to do nothing more than leer in wait, much in the manner of a melancholic beaver waiting to gobble up its prey.

"Beest thou tripping, mine homies?" Riviere a dit.

"Negative, mine fine haired maiden." The Duktah said, prancing down from the rafters, only to find himself in a heap much like one of sticks that had been dropped from a great height, now waiting to become a campfire, enlightened by those seeking to enjoy it. It's crackling warmth bringing a closeness and emotional satisfaction to all parties involves.

The Ducktah leered off into space, making it known to the author his displeasure with the badly intentioned sexual metaphor which the author had admittedly run into the ground in the last paragraph. But to Roranicus, unaware of the protagonist's prosical plight, the vacant glare, which had incidentally fallen which in Roranicus's mind was like the gaze of a lonely angel waiting to found among the stars, signalled that the practiced practitioner was in need of a nursing for an wound, possibly of the cardiacal variety, from a professional nursing assistant (such as himself).

"Steppeth of mine who, thy scurrilous scumbucket!" Riviere belched, striking a pose into their hearts of stone/metal/glass/flesh/organic matter/other.

"I wish an end to my terrible woebegone gingerless-"

The Ducktah cut her off, much in the manner that infamous, transcendant Gotye had once been.

"Thou jest, oh gingerbreaded one! I tried really, really hard."

"I... I could attempt to become what thou wishes! I might procure a false wig from yonder, the wig room! I shall even acquire a beard from the beard chamber if you so wish!" echoed Roranicus.

"He needs not a beard, he hath one already in the formerly ginger lass. River cocked her head, and pondered. "Thems couldst be words to inspire fightin'." she considered.

"I am going to go off on my own and consider how one might escape this labyrinth of suffering that is also known as Life, The Universe, and Everything." Ameh intoned darkly. She revolved, very very slowly, and then began her redescent into the bowels of the TARDIS. Not actual bowels. Just metaphorical ones.

"If thou takest two lefts, and, by my leave, three rights, thou mayhap discover the commencement of an Ice Cream Parade. It is very difficult to discover suffering at an ice cream parade, I assure you. Unless thou art a being consisting entirely of ice cream and art forced to the vile act of autocannibalism." YOLETed the Ducktah.

Ameh angsted darkly as she disappeared from the frame. *angst*

*angst angst angst*

"If I were in possession of a firearm with two bullets, I would not hesitate to pop a cap in thine rear once, and subsequently once more for dramatic effect. That sums to twice, for mine audience who creeps behind the fourth wall."

The Ducktah subsequently pulled out a British Browning L9A1 and proceeded to do so.

"Wherest procurest thou thine stick of death!?" Riviere proclaimed in delight!

"From a dear old friend, old buddy, old pal..." the Duktah paused for dramatic effect."

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"CHAVKoV!"

"You mean like a Chekov's gun? Which is _Chekhov's gun is a metaphor for a dramatic principle concerning simplicity and foreshadowing. It suggests that if one shows a loaded gun on stage in the first act of a play, it should be fired in a later act; otherwise, the gun should not be shown in the first place. The principle was articulated by Russian playwright Anton Chekhov and reported in various forms_?" Roranicus' rambles reminiscent of a robot.

CHAVKoV then burst through the door angirly. "No I AM CHAV-Y CHEKoV, CHEKoV'S FATHER'S SECoND GILFRoND TWICE REMOVED'S DoG'S oWNER FRoM EAST LoNDoN."

And then the Ducktah kissed Roranicus.

And then they married (a grandiose fete run by that blue guy whose head is in a box.

The END.

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P.S. Rory Alice.


End file.
